


Heart Like Mine

by the_one_that_fell



Series: Blue-Eyed Jack 'Verse [7]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Loneliness, Nicknames, Questioning, Religion, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12094983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Eric ends up in both a church and a McDonald's on the same, lonely night and finds comfort in the one he didn't expect.





	Heart Like Mine

**Author's Note:**

> CW: mentions of homophobia, running away, vague mentions of homelessness, a very very lonely boy reconsiders his life choices, hopeful ending i promise
> 
> AN: So I was listening to [@bold-go-home's](http://boldly-go-home.tumblr.com/) [FANTASTIC playlist](http://boldly-go-home.tumblr.com/post/165310525154/i-made-a-playlist-for-alphacrones-excellent) she made for Bitty in this universe and actually started crying at work thinking about Bitty when Heart Like Mine came on, so I had to write this little piece.

_Cause I heard Jesus He drank wine_  
And I bet we’d get along just fine  
He could calm a storm and heal the blind  
And I bet He’d understand a heart like mine

_-Miranda Lambert, Heart Like Mine_

 

Eric didn’t know why he was here.

And —  _gosh —_ it was weird to think of himself as Eric, but that was the only name people knew him by in Nashville, the few that knew him at all. He grew up as  _Baby_  and  _Dicky_  and  _Junior_ , as  _Sweetheart_  and  _Boo Boo_  and  _Champ_. He went by other names as he got older, crueler names hissed at him in hallway at school, shouted at him from across the street. The kids in first grade called him  _Little Bittle_ , but even that seemed preferable to Eric in this moment. Eric was the lonely name of a lonely boy hundreds of miles away from a place he couldn’t call home. But it was the only name he had anymore.

It still didn’t explain why he felt the need to wander into a random church on a rainy, Wednesday evening.

Back in Georgia, Eric had attended church every single Sunday with his mama and Coach. He took communion with half the town, and it was the one moment in the whole week he felt like he was one of them. The reverend didn’t have the nicest things to say about boys like him, but when he spoke of love and peace and turning the other cheek, Eric felt like he could survive Madison and come out the other side a better person than he’d been before.

Well, he’d survived. But he’d become someone he didn’t know, someone who left in the middle of the night with no goodbye, save for the note on the kitchen table that read,  _I’m sorry. I love you. Don’t look for me._

Eric hadn’t signed it; that was the moment he shed all the names of his past, like he’d scraped off a snakeskin on the doorframe as he walked away.

Now that he sat here, in the back pew of an empty church, shivering under the blast of the A/C, Eric wondered if he’d ever grow his new skin, or if he’d feel this raw and tender forever.

In the lobby, he could hear someone vacuuming the carpet. Somehow it comforted Eric to know he wasn’t the only person in the building. He thought he’d come here to find God, to have one of those religious epiphanies that only happens when you’re the only one for miles, but maybe he’d just been looking for home.

“This is dumb,” he murmured, standing too quickly. He’d worked long and hard today — construction jobs were ruthless but paid better than the shitty tips he’d been getting at TGI Friday’s — and hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The world spun as he stumbled back out of the church, face and hands going cold and numb. The rain was coming down harder now, and Eric was just grateful he’d managed to save up enough to rent a closet-sized room in a sketchy sublease. Maybe he’d stop by a Bojangles and treat himself to chicken and biscuits, if only to fill his stomach better than a ramen pack would.

Eric didn’t find a Bojangles anywhere between the church and his apartment, to his disappointment, but he did find a McDonald’s, which was almost as good. The food was hot and salty and made him forget his aching muscles or the fact that after living in Nashville for several months he’d yet to land any sort of gig — not even at an old folks’ home or at an open-mic. The best he’d done was the day a kind woman dropped a twenty in his open guitar case as he busked on the Strip — one of ten curbside singers in a five-block radius. Maybe he’d have had more luck hitchhiking down to Austin to try his luck among the Willie Nelson- and Stevie Ray Vaughan-wannabes. But Eric couldn’t imagine having more than one state line between him and the family he’d left behind, as far away as he felt now.

“Give me a sign,” he said, staring down at his half-eaten burger and fries. “Give me a sign to give up and move on with my life.”

Eric didn’t know if he was speaking to God or the universe or the spirit of the cow that was now his dinner, but it didn’t matter. He’d take anything as an omen now, take any sort of permission to let his dreams die and move on from the bright lights of Nashville.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I sit here? I don’t really want to eat alone.”

Eric looked up into warm, brown eyes peering down at him curiously. They belonged a boy — no, a young man — who couldn’t have been much older than Eric himself. He wore one of those Best Buy ‘Geek Squad’ polos and looked as worn as Eric felt, but his smile was bright and kind.

“Sure,” Eric said, voice coming out as more of a surprised squeak. “I’m- I’m Eric.”

“Abel,” the man said. He sat down in the seat across from Eric, setting down his tray. “And thanks. I was gonna take this home, but my roommates are out and I guess I just wasn’t ready to sit in an empty apartment by myself.”

There was a loneliness in Abel’s eyes that felt achingly familiar. Eric nodded in understanding.

“I’m grateful for the company,” he said, picking at the seeds on his bun. “I was feelin’ a bit lonely myself.”

Abel smiled at him and they dug into their meals in a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Abel swallowed a large mouthful of burger and asked, “So, Eric, what do you do?”

Ah, the horrors of smalltalk. “Oh, um, right now I’m working in construction. S’the best work I could find. Been thinking ‘bout saving up to take a class or something, maybe get into something vocational.” He nodded at Abel’s shirt. “Never really had booksmarts. ‘C’s get degrees’ and all that.” He laughed nervously.

“You know anything about bartending?” Abel asked. “My cousin’s got a little dive near here, he’s looking for a bartender. Pays decently, not nearly as dangerous as construction.”

“Sadly, no,” Eric said with a shrug. “Only time I’ve ever spent in bars has been going to shows. I’m only 19.”

“That’s old enough for plenty of people,” Abel said, not unkindly. “What shows do you go to?”

Eric shrugged, popping a french fry into his mouth. “Mostly country, lots of up-and-coming singers and bands. Sometimes more indie stuff, but country’s my thing, for better or worse.”  

“You a singer?” Abel asked around a mouthful of food. When Eric nodded, he continued, “You should sign up for the open mic battle at Black-Eyed Susan’s — it’s this  _terrible_  bar that only stays open because it hosts really fun competitions and shows and stuff.”

“Oh.” Eric sat a little straighter. This wasn’t the sign he’d asked for at  _all_ , but he’d be a fool not to see it as the opportunity it was. “Yeah, that’d be- that’d be great.”

“Here,” Abel pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled vague directions down on a napkin. “I forget the address, but it’s not that far from here. If you talk to a girl named Jenny, tell her I sent you.” He paused, smiling goofily. “That’s my sister. She’s the best.”

Eric laughed. “I’m sure she is. Thank you, this is- I walked in here ready to give up and you really turned my night around.”

Abel shrugged, looking embarrassed. “It’s nothing. I thought I’d be eating by myself and now I have a new friend. Sometimes magical things can happen in a McDonald’s on a rainy day, Eric.”

But it wasn’t magic, or even divine intervention. The universe didn’t really care what happened to Eric, but maybe Nashville would.

“Call me Bitty,” he said after a moment.  _Itty Bitty Bittle_ , he could hear the boys in the locker room jeering, but the memory didn’t hurt like it once had. He’d show them; he’d show them all what Bitty could do. “No one’s ever really called me Eric. I go by Bitty.”

Abel shrugged and smiled and said, “Well, then, it’s real nice to meet you, Bitty. I really can’t wait to hear you sing.”

**Author's Note:**

> [The Tumblr AU Masterpost](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/165202981002/blue-eyed-jack-verse-masterpost)
> 
> [Cross-posted to tumblr.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/165335430722/heart-like-mine-or-bitty-finds-himself-in-a)
> 
> [My online novel, The Discourt Knife. ](http://thediscourtknife.com/)


End file.
